So every once in a while I go on what I think is the worst date I have ever been on. First there was the guy who called me a racist because of the town I grew up in (which by the way is not a racist town at all…??) and practically yelled at me because it was our second date and I wasn’t gonna bang him, Then there was the lion- who told me he wouldn’t tolerate coffee consumption because “thats an addiction”, and lastly there was the guy who never got his drivers license because of 9/11. They were not bad guys just really weird. But my date from last Thursday definitely won the gold medal when it comes to the dating Olympics.
He had been messaging me on and off for a couple weeks. He’d start a conversation and then disappear for a week or two, come back and pick up where he left off. I mentioned I was newish to the city and he offered to show me around, I figured it couldn’t hurt to see some new bars. I had been sort of sick to my stomach all day when he asked me if I wanted to get a drink with him. Despite the fact that I wasn’t feeling that great I agreed to go out with him. I figured I could be miserable at home by myself or I could go out and grab a drink- it wasn’t like I was going to feel any better whether I stayed at home or not.
We agreed to meet at 7- I even texted him at 630 to confirm that we were meeting at 7, so I was more than a little annoyed when he texted me at 7:05 to tell me he was 8 minutes away. I considered leaving, but I had put on real pants and makeup and I already had a drink so I figured the least he could do was pay for my drink if he was going to be almost 20 minutes late.
I assumed he was probably coming from work which would have been a reasonable excuse, I get held up at work all the time- I don’t usually wait until 5 minutes after I was supposed to be there to let someone know, but I consider myself to be an extra considerate person. I found out this wasn’t the case when he informed me that he was on disability and hadn’t had a job since 2004. I try hard to not be judgmental about people on disability but dude- you could have at least shown up to the date on time since you and I both know you weren’t at work. Things are going ok- they weren’t terrible, but he was alot older than his profile said he was, he hadn’t worked in a very long time, had no long or short term goals, and he had a criminal record. He just wasn’t the type of person I saw a future with, but I was already there so I figured I would just see this one through.
At about the same point that I realized there was not gonna be a second date he tells me hes going to “go outside and bum some cigarettes”. My 36 year old date then drags me outside in the cold to bum cigarettes from people smoking behind the bar. Everyone has their vices, I get it- but at 36 years old you should be able to support your own habits. At this point it becomes clear that I am probably paying for my own drinks. He asks me if I want to head to a different bar he wants to show me. I say sure, to be honest I don’t know why I didn’t end the date at this point- I still wasn’t feeling well, and I wasn’t having a particularly good time, but I’m a really nice person and he was having a good time so we paid our separate tabs and head to the next bar.
We get to the other bar and it turns out hes a regular there. He starts sharing stories with the other patrons, and I am feeling super out of place. We stay for an hour or so and then he tells me to grab the tab. I end up paying the tab for the last two drinks. So to recap- he’s bumming cigarettes, I paid for my own drinks at the first bar, and both of our drinks at the second bar.
I really should have gone home after that. But if were being honest I really needed to get laid, and I’m having minor surgery at the end of the month that will put me out of sexual commission for a few weeks so I figure I would seize the opportunity to get it in with someone I didn’t worry about impressing to much and didn’t plan to ever talk to again. He takes me back to his apartment on the other side of the city and we start getting down to business when all of a sudden my stomach ache gets worse. I start feeling really sick and tell him that I wasn’t feeling well and that I need to leave. He tells me its late and I should stay the night plus “he wants to keep banging”. I again reiterate that I am not feeling well and am going home. He disappears into the bathroom and I hear the shower running. So at this point I figure its pretty clear to him that I am not feeling well and I am leaving. I pack up my stuff put on my clothes and leave. 10 minutes later I get a barrage of angry texts about how I “just dipped” “wtf is wrong with you” and my personal favorite “your tits aren’t that great I was interested in your personality but that just went down the toilet good fn luck maybe you should try not going home with people the first night if your gonna be a whore and leave”. Like DUDE first of all calm down, your dick game was mediocre at best. Second of all did you want me to projectile vomit all over your studio apartment? What did he expect I was gonna do? “Be a whore” and move in as opposed to be a whore and leave? He didn’t even wait for a response he blocked my number and unmatched me faster than he turned that bar tab over for me to pay.
I mean I guess in hindsight I probably should have just thrown up in his bed. Like hey dude I’m having a bad night and now so are you- but I really thought leaving was the appropriate way to deal with it, and I really don’t know how much more clear I could have been. Not that I really care what an almost 40 year old who cant even pay for his own drinks thinks of me, it was more that I just couldn’t believe that this grown ass man was throwing a literal temper tantrum via text messages. I guess the moral of this story is if he’s lame in the streets hes gonna be lame in the sheets and hes probably going to call you a whore.